Cops, Robbers, and Everything in Between
by Rakija
Summary: Semi-AU. History's got a funny way of repeating itself, and Giotto and his vigilante friends' latest mission is to find out who the Vongola Decimo is and bring him to justice. On the other side of things, Tsuna's just crossing his fingers and hoping his brother's friend, Alaude, doesn't beat him too harshly when they do. No Pairing.
1. Chapter 1

So I know I should be working on my other fic, but this plunny struck me like a bolt from the blue, and it's good practice to keep me writing even if it's not my main fic-project at the moment.

Warnings for this chapter and beyond: inaccurate portrayal of culture, mafia, law enforcement; violence, cursing, random updates, possibly bad grammer

xXx

Chapter 1

Tsuna woke up to the afternoon sun shining on his face and the ringing of the alarm he hadn't needed since a baby hitman named Reborn decided to make it his personal duty to get Tsuna to school on time one way or the other (aka a body bag). No guns going up close and personal greet him 'good morning'. No unnaturally purple food placed out for in-bed breakfast with an extra helping of assassination. In fact, not even an infant smiling over Tsuna as he was about to apply the pair of defibrillator pads fisted in each hand - which was a sure indicator to Tsuna and his two years of experience dealing with the mafia that something was very, very wrong.

Or no. Wait. No reason to panic quite yet. Maybe he was just jumping ahead of himself?

Sure he felt like he slept in more than he should but it must be a holiday, that'll all, Tsuna reasoned to himself, ignoring the warning buzz going off in his mind. And while bad in its own way - because holidays alway meant some obscure 'Vongola tradition' - at least it meant Reborn wasn't going to kill him for being late. Not that losing a Vongola 'traditional game' didn't amount to about the same thing, but at least Tsuna stood a chance to avoid punishment...sort of. Maybe. Okay, so Tsuna stood about a snowball's chance in hell of winning any Vongola traditional game but even snowball's in hell had a chance, right?

But no, one look at the calendar - middle of the school week, Wednesday - tossed that idea straight out.

Getting desperate now, Tsuna scrambled for reasons to assure himself that everything was fine; that the niggling feeling in the back of his head that usually told him the right time to dodge, fight, and run was absolutely wrong this time, and no, his hobby _wasn't_ going to be swimming with the fishes any time soon.

Tsuna just woke up late, all right. But not _that _late. All he had to do was hurry and dress then head straight to school and everything would be A-okay. Sure, he'd be starving until lunch came by since he wouldn't get to eat breakfast, but it would be a small price to pay to not wind up on tomorrow's obituary. Only...well...it looked like eating lunch and possibly even dinner was a rapidly diminishing possibility because if Tsuna was reading the red-letters of his clock right, it was'18:27' military time which meant 6:27PM regular time. And if he did his math right: 'school day' plus 'waking up in the evening' equalled 'Tsuna could forget about eating any meals altogether because Reborn would make sure he would be drinking the rest of them through straws for sleeping the whole day away.'

Then another thought struck him. It wasn't summer anymore, so the thing Tsuna thought was the sun shining in his face the whole time was actually...

A light bulb hanging from the ceiling with Tsuna's study desk placed under it, in a setup eerily reminiscent of interrogation rooms he saw in spy flicks.

"Do you know what time it is, Tsuna?" asked Reborn's voice cutting across the room like a death knell.

Tsuna couldn't help but break down into nervous laughter once he finally noticed Reborn standing on aforementioned study desk. "Ehehhehh..."

"A mafia boss should always keep up with his appointments. I thought I taught you this already." Tsuna tensed as he heard the 'tsk' of disappointment, half expecting Reborn to whip out a pistol on him. "But luckily for you, that useless, no-good behavior of yours is exactly what we need from you right now."

Phew. So Tsuna was in the clear for now. Then he processed what was being said. Wait, what? "Huh?" Tsuna said intelligently as he sat up in his bed, pushing off the sheets and rubbing the sleep off his eyes.

"Namimori will be having visitors soon. Vigilantes who've made something of a name for themselves in Italy. Even the Nono is hesitant when it comes to dealing with them."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"Everything," said Reborn as he hopped over to Tsuna prone on the bed and reached a hand out toward him causing Tsuna to reevaluate his earlier assessment. Not so in the clear after all. He was so dead!

"Hiiieee! Wait! I'm sorry, Re-!" Before Tsuna could finish what he was saying however, a smack followed by a glare promising a slow death via Bianchi's cooking silenced him. "Owww! What was that for, Reb-?!" Another smack. A look that said Biachi's cooking plus a date with Enzio at the beach.

"Get in the habit of not saying my name. Even now, they have might have their agents' eyes on us."

"Who's agent's? And why would they be watching us?" asked Tsuna rubbing at his cheeks.

"The vigilantes of course, dame-Tsuna. Although it would be more correct to say they're watching out for you, the Vongola Decimo." Reborn made another grab towards Tsuna. Only now that Tsuna was less scared for his life and more aware of his surroundings, he could tell that rather than going for the throat like he originally assumed, Reborn was aiming for the chain hanging around his neck - the necklace which held the ring Tsuna had a sneaking suspicion was at least partly responsible for this latest trouble.

"Me?! But I haven't done anything!" At least nothing he thought warranted the vigilante's direct attention...

"Have you now?" asked Reborn looking up from whatever he was doing to the Vongola Gear and Lancia's ring alongside it. "Attempting to rig a pole-knocking competition. Destroying a local yakuza gang. Multiple criminal counts for public indecency. I think the vigilantes have plenty of reason to worry especially if this is the man who's next in line to lead the most powerful crime family in the world."

"Those were all your fault!" Tsuna couldn't help but point out.

But Reborn, as always, was unsympathetic to his plight as ever. "Whose fault it is, is besides the point. But really, Tsuna. As a mafia boss, you should learn how to take responsibility for your actions."

_That's not necessarily exclusive to mafia bosses,_ thought Tsuna. _But then again, wouldn't mafia bosses do the exact opposite? Well, Dino is always being responsible so maybe it's just the bad one-_ Then Tsuna realized what he was partly agreeing to and argued back. "It's one thing to take responsibility for my actions, but it's another thing to end up in jail for yours!"

"Details." Reborn hummed to himself. "Then how about Xanxus and the battle for succession?" said Reborn more seriously. Tsuna opened his mouth to argue that he did that so Xanxus couldn't be the Decimo, not for Tsuna to become the Decimo, but Reborn pressed on. "The Inheritance Ceremony to lure in your enemies. The Vendice."

Tsuna didn't have anything to say to that. "But I don't even want to be the Vongola Decimo..." he settled on saying. He briefly had to close his eyes when whatever Reborn was doing to the rings caused them to shine a blinding light before dying down just enough to be tolerable. Another yank on the chain and a strange hissing. Just what was Reborn doing? Tsuna tried to look down but attempting to stare directly at the light emitting off the rings was like staring straight at the sun.

Reborn response was quick and to the point. "Irrelevant because you're either going to be the Vongola Decimo or you're going to die trying."

"Don't I have a choice that doesn't revolve around me becoming a mafia boss?!"

"Well I suppose you could always die without trying. I could even be the one to do you in free of charge," offered Reborn, his eyes sparkling contemplatively.

"Hieeeeee!"

"Done," declared Reborn, backing up and letting go of Tsuna's rings, each of which now sporting a Mammon Cover over the gems, while the Vongola Gear was split into its two component parts: the Box Spirit Ring and the Vongola Ring reverted to its original and much less conspicuous form. "The initial scouts they sent out here might not have the technology to track down the ring Flames at the moment, but from what I hear about their dealings with the non-allied famiglias in Italy, it's only a matter of time. The Mammon Covers should throw them off our tail when that happens," explained Reborn. "Unfortunately even with Giannini, Shouichi, and Spanner working together, the Vongola Gear emits too much energy in it's normal state for the Mammon Cover to be effective so it has to be sealed beforehand. The seal can be removed as soon as you take off the Cove in case of emergencies of course, but as you can see it takes some time to redo the sealing."

So all Tsuna had to do now was lay low and not use the rings? He could do that. It wasn't like he liked going out of his way to use them in the first place. Then again there was a lot of things Tsuna didn't like but he was forced to do regardless like Vongolian Birthday Celebrations and becoming a mafia boss in the first place...But wait. Something wasn't right here. "I thought you said they could already be watching us."

"I did," said Reborn without elaborating.

Correct him if he was being stupid but... "Doesn't that mean they already know I'm the Vongola Decimo or that you're Re-" Tsuna barely stopped himself in time from saying Reborn's name much to Reborn's seeming disappoint before the hitman remembered he didn't need an excuse to hit Tsuna and hit him anyways. "Ow! Quit that!"

"Are you ordering me around, dame-Tsuna?" Crap.

"N-no, of course not, Reb-" Three aborted attempts to say and then not-say Reborn's name later, Reborn got bored with slapping his student around and decided to bring out the big guns. Literally. It was two more attempts after that before Tsuna got it right. "Okay, okay! I get it!"

"Are you sure about that, Tsuna? What's my name?"

"It's R-" No, stop. Tsuna wasn't falling for that a sixth time and Reborn seemed to have taken enough pity on him to resist another go at beating him up. "_Anyway_, as I was getting around to asking, if they could be watching us now, doesn't that mean they already know who we are?"

"Now you're just be closing minded," Reborn admonished as he went about wiping his hands and putting away the bazooka who knows where. "Knowing who you are and watching over you doesn't necessarily have to be related to each other."

"How can they be watching over me and not know who I am? Better yet, why would they be watching me if they didn't know who I am?"

Of course being involved with the mafia for two years and Reborn, Tsuna should have seen the news he heard next coming.

Before Reborn could respond, there was pounding of feet going up the stairs and the next thing Tsuna knew he was being pulled off the bed with an armful of his overexcited mother hugging him as she announced. "Great news, Tsu-kun! Your brother is coming back from Italy!"

xXx

Hope you enjoyed! TBC


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Did I say random updates? I meant slow updates. My bad! Not much happening in this chapter but what I wrote so far was getting a bit longer than I want chapters to be for this fic. No promises on when the next chapter is going to be out since next week's schedule is looking booked (which is why I'm cutting this chapter short in case), but I can say the next chapter is already partly written if only because it was cut out of this chapter.

As for the answer to the questions I've been receiving:

No Pairing for this fic even though I like making references. I'll be changing the summary to reflect that though I always thought GEN covered that o.O.

And they'll be mentions about how everyone looks alike but only about as much there is in the anime/manga. (Because Fon and Hibari? I think the only one who thought about that resemblance was I-Pin within the manga. Not to mention all the First Generation and the Tenth Generation XD)

**xXx**

"Giotto-nii is coming home?" Tsuna echoed numbly, caught between the transition of worrying about Reborn's latest batch of bad news and this...news. He must have been hearing things. His mom couldn't have said what he thought she said because that would mean...well that _could _mean something that Tsuna rather not think about. It didn't necessarily have to be true. Besides, Reborn hadn't exactly said _who _they were yet and just because he had a sadistic hitman for a home-tutor, fifty-nine assassination attempts on his life to date (that he knew about ), and well over eighty near-deaths experiences for reasons unrelated to assassination (but completely related to said hitman), didn't mean the whole world was out to get him.

...It just meant the worst people possible to be out to get him were out to get him. Like the mafia and the vigilantes who may or may not include the man Tsuna really hoped they didn't include.

"Mhmm," hummed his mom, cheerfully oblivious of her son's dilemma. She gave him one last tight squeeze before letting him go. "I got off the line with one of his friends just now, and he said Ieyasu-kun will be arriving later tonight! Isn't it wonderful?"

This was all happening so fast. He barely caught himself from automatically answering, 'No, that's horrible!' and instead stuttered out, "Y-yeah, it's great. But later tonight?" He paused. "Isn't this all a bit last minute?"

His mom's smile faltered at that, her eyebrows furrowing in concern as she started to catch on. "What's wrong, Tsu-kun? Are you not feeling well?" she asked moving forward to check his temperature.

Tsuna shook his head before she could. "No, it's just-" He cut himself off. What did one say when one was expecting to be a future victim of fratricide?

"Well this isn't like you at all!" declared his mom, hands on hips. "Where's the little boy who used to get so excited whenever he heard his brother was visiting, he'd spend the rest of the day sitting out in the front yard until he passed out? Or the boy who wouldn't even leave the house to go to school unless his brother walked him there to scare away the neighborhood dogs?"

"Mom..." said Tsuna.

"I remember you two got along so well. You used to run crying to your 'Giotto-nii-chan' all the time! Whenever you had to go for shots-"

"Mom," Tsuna said again, face reddening now as he suddenly realized where she was going with this.

But his mom acted as if she hadn't heard his protest and continued ticking off the points with one hand. "Whenever you got scared by a moth, and when you got that bean stuck in your nose and we had to take you to the hospital. Then there was that time in elementary when your teacher asked you what's the difference between a ham and a sausage, and all the other children made fun of you because you couldn't-"

"Mom! I get it already! Can you please stop with the stories?"

"Why stop? Maman was just getting to the interesting part," said Reborn joining the conversation as he hopped onto and balanced on top of the bedpost nearest Tsuna's elbow.

Because Tsuna didn't want to give Reborn more blackmail material, was the answer, but he knew better than to say that aloud. Knowing Reborn, the hitman might take it as a slight against his information gathering skills, or worse, a challenge. (Little did Tsuna know, Reborn already recorded all everything from the time Tsuna caught the Skull Disease and was just saving the information for future extortion.)

"Spoiling my fun, Tsu-kun!" His mom pouted, crossing her arms. _Which one of us is supposed to be the adult here?_

But she was right of course - about him and Giotto. Unlike with his dad who always fumbled tossing him up in the air when he was a little kid and made up romantic stories of riding off into the stars to excuse his absence, Tsuna always looked forward to his brother's visits. This time was no exception. But...

"It's just..." Giotto coming now combined with what Reborn had informed him of earlier...Tsuna shook his head, no. Surely his luck wasn't that bad? ._..Yeah and someday Gokudera will be able to look at his sister straight in the face for five seconds without gagging._ "It's just a surprise, that's all," he said at last. It wasn't even a lie.

It really had been a while since his brother's last visit. A little over two years to be exact, coincidentally coinciding with the week just before Reborn had barged into Tsuna's life which, now that Tsuna was looking back on it, looked less 'coincidental' and more 'deliberately planned' as yet another part of Reborn's grand scheme that had Tsuna on a one way track for a career in criminal overlording. It certainly wouldn't surprise him at this point. But for what reason would Reborn have to avoid Giotto? His brother was great and all, but even Giotto didn't stand a chance against the mafia, let alone the world's strongest hitman.

Tsuna pointedly ignored the mounting pressure in his head that pulsed as if to say that now he really was just being stupid.

"Ah, I see," said his mom, nodding along, accepting his excuse. "Well, your brother called last night too but you were already asleep by then, and Reborn said you were exhausted from school work, so I didn't want to wake you up," she explained. "I'm so proud of you by the way, Tsu-kun! Staying out late to study with Reborn and your friends!"

More like running for his life as Reborn 'quizzed' him over his Italian. Unfortunately neither 'Erm...it's...' or 'HIIEEEE!' counted as Italian for anything and Reborn had Tsuna running for the hills for the rest of the day for it. But however his mom wanted to see it.

"But to the point where you can't even wake up on time to go to school the next day," she continued on, tone turning scolding. "That's going too far."

"Don't worry about it, Maman," said Reborn. "He didn't miss much anyways. Classes were canceled today."

That was news to Tsuna. "They were?" he asked. He hadn't heard about that in the school bulletin at least. Then again, in between Gokudera's verbally exploding at the clueless substitute teacher who'd been insulting Tsuna and then literally exploding the clueless substitute teacher, there wasn't much he had heard. Though it explained why Reborn hadn't been too concerned about sending Tsuna off to school today. _Sending me off the afterlife on the other hand..._

"For a school-wide inspection and questioning," explained Reborn. "Apparently the local authorities were recently informed of the presence of a delinquent group that's made Namimori its main base of operations, and they were worried that some of the students may have gotten involved with them."

"Oh, how terrible!" said Tsuna's mom with a gasp.

"It is," agreed Reborn. Though for all his change in tone he might as well have been talking about the weather. "Especially if the reports are true and these no-good delinquent have taken to smuggling hidden incendiary weapons into the school. Who knows what sort of trouble they could get into packing that sort of heat?" Reborn let that sink in a little before he added, "But of course that's got nothing to do with Tsuna."

Tsuna's first thought was: _Great. Another group of scary people have arrived._ But then he reviewed the facts. Incendiary weapons and a delinquent group that made Namimori it's home? Incendiary weapons meant fire and delinquents tend to be young people and Tsuna and his friends happened to be young so that meant those 'scary people' were actually...It struck him like a blow, and he nearly bent double over his revelation and his next thought was: _Then it has everything to do with me!_

His mom gave a huff at that. "I should hope not, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Or I'd have to call your father back here to give you a talking to and have him tell you what happens when you end up in prison!"

"There's no need for that!" said Tsuna, waving his hands in front of himself defensively. Besides, his dad's half the reason he was even in this mess. And rather than a lecture, his dad would probably saying something along the lines of 'Great job, Tsuna! You're making a name for yourself in the underworld' or 'You're growing up to be a fine boss. Just don't tell Nana I said that!' Going to jail on the other was looking to be a very real and very imminent possibility. "Why would I go ahead and join something like a gang anyways?" he went on. Unless, say, he was being held at gunpoint - which Tsuna _was_ at least half the time but his mom didn't need to know that.

"Well just so you know."

"Of course!" exclaimed Tsuna.

"Not to mention the fact that you're brother would be disappointed in you," added in Reborn before turning to Tsuna's mom. "What is Giotto by the way? A detective? A police officer?" asked the hitman as if he didn't already know, rubbing in the point that Tsuna was trying very hard not to think about.

His mom hummed thoughtfully at, propping a hand under her chin. "You know, now that you mention it, I'm really not sure what Yasu-kun's up to these days," she said. "I know for sure he used to be a detective before he quit the police force. But after that...I think the last I heard about his job was that it still had something to do with law enforcement. Though I'm not sure if he told me what he was and I forgot or I just forgot to ask him about it..." She trailed off, frowning a bit at her own lack of knowledge.

A job Giotto wouldn't mention that had something to do with law enforcement? If that didn't sound like a career in vigilantism, Tsuna didn't know what did. Then he remembered this was _exactly the thing he wasn't supposed to be thinking about_ and focused instead on getting his mom out of the room before she whipped out the photo album - which she always did without fail after talking about the son-she-didn't-necessarily-like-more-than-Tsuna-but-oh-there's-just-so-much-about-him-to-talk-about.

"So when's dinner?" asked Tsuna, trying to move the topic away from Giotto and his shared childhood.

"Oh, I almost forgot! The oven!" So that was the burning smell in Tsuna's room. His mom hurriedly explained the situation, "Well your brother should be arriving soon so we'll be eating together. In the meanwhile, clean up your room and the guest room because some of your brother's friends will be staying with us too."

"We got it covered," assured Reborn.

"I want these rooms spotless by the time everyone arrives!"

"Of course, Maman." And with that Tsuna's mom left the room. But as soon as she did, Reborn spun on a heel, pulled out a gun, and said, "Well, what are you waiting for, dame-Tsuna? Get to it."

"What is this 'we' business?!"

"A mafia boss should always keep his promises."

There were a dozen things that came to Tsuna's mind to say to that: one being that Tsuna wasn't the one that made the promise in the first place; another being that why should criminal overlords keep their word when their 'subordinates' refused to pay their restaurant bills? But he knew arguing with Reborn was like arguing with a brick wall armed with Beretta 96A1 and was just as liable to get him shot. Although Tsuna had to ask anyways."Can't we talk about this?" Because Tsuna really didn't want to chance his brother and his friends running into him in his Dying-Will mode in nothing but his underwear.

Reborn returned Tsuna's question with one of his own. "Depends. Do you think you can clean up all this mess without dying?"

Tsuna took one long look around the room. A thick layer of dust collecting over the wardrobe drawers . Even more behind the bookshelf. Lambo's old grenade pins sticking out from under the carpet which were either a poor attempt at cleaning up or an even poorer attempt at hiding the evidence. And a strange purple mold that had somehow overtaken half the east wall without his notice and was now well on its way to taking its conquest to the west. Well.

xXx

When Tsuna came to for the second time that evening he noticed three things: 1) his room was sparkling clean - except maybe the walls which were still a tinge of purple and which apparently not even a Dying Will could hope to salvage, 2) while he was indeed in his boxers seated on the floor, there were a barely scorched folded set of clothes thankfully waiting for him on his bed, and 3) there was a scary-looking man with white hair and a pair of cuffs in one hand towering over him. His brain stalled for a second and he had to run the last thought by again. _There's a man that looks kind of like Hibari who looks like he's about to kill me._

"HIIIIEEEEE!"

"So you're the Vongola Decimo," said the white-haired man looking him up and down with a critical eye. He frowned. "You're weaker looking than I thought you'd be."

"Er-!" Tsuna mentally scrambled for something, anything, to say to get him out of this mess. What to say, what to say... The man walked closer causing Tsuna to panic and blurt out the first thing that came to mind. "Th-That's because you've got the wrong guy!" he fibbed on the spot. Actually, now that Tsuna thought about it, playing clueless wasn't a half bad idea. Sure it might not work, but it was worth a shot.

"Is that so?" The white-haired man continued to glare suspiciously at Tsuna but otherwise remained where he was, no longer approaching. So it was working. Maybe. Or just delaying the inevitable. At the very least, if Tsuna stalled this long enough he might be able to stay in the hospital long enough to avoid next week's math test and thus Reborns subsequent tutoring sessions.

"Y-Yeah, that's right. Who is this Vongola Decimo person anyways? I don't know any Vongola Decimo!" said Tsuna trying to keep his eyes on the other man's and not fidget too much. He also "didn't know" a baby hitman, a poison-using hitman with a crush on said baby hitman, or a baseball player who had a natural disposition for being a hitman.

"Are you saying my sources are wrong?"

Why did it suddenly feel like the room temperature dropped? "Yes...?" said Tsuna after a long moment, feeling as if he were digging his own grave.

Silence.

Just as Tsuna began planning out what to write on his will (if he could do even that after whatever happened next), the tension left as soon as it came and the white-haired man seemed to draw back into himself, shoulder relaxing as he stowed his cuffs away in his coat. "I suppose it's possible," conceded the man, "in which case I'll have to punish my subordinates." In other words, against all odds, Tsuna had made it. That was a relief...Or so he thought. "But unfortunately for you, my sources are never wrong."

"Eh?" said Tsuna, brain not quite catching up with the situation. Since when did 'making it' mean 'folding up sleeves threateningly'? Actually, since when was folding up sleeves threatening?

"I'll be taking you in, Vongola Decimo. It's about time someone brought you to justice." The white-haired man closed the rest of the distance and raised a fist which spoke the man's intentions clearer than anything else.

Tsuna cringed away. "Wait! Don't hurt me! I'll turn myself in! You don't have to do that that!"

But the white-haired man was heedless of his pleas. "If anyone asks, say you resisted arrest. Not that anyone will." And then the fist came down.

Resist arrest? So not only did Tsuna have to worry about the mafia and the vigilantes but dirty cops?! _What kind of situation is this?! _He closed his eyes and braced himself for the blow. For five seconds. Ten. It still didn't come. Maybe the man was just waiting until he opened in his eyes again? At that thought, Tsuna clenched his eyes shut even tighter. A whole minute went by before Reborn spoke up.

"You can open your eyes, Tsuna. This was just a simulation."

And Tsuna did, hesitantly, only to be greeted with a fist inches away from his face. He screamed.

And screamed.

And kept screaming until he realized the fist inches away from his face wasn't getting any inches closer and the screaming died down. "Wha-?" He looked at the clenched hand in front of him. It flickered. Against his better judgment, Tsuna poked a finger through it just to be sure. It went through without resistance. A fake. Although the heat the hologram gave off seemed real enough - just a few degrees shy of an actual human's body temperature. Tsuna took a guess. "Giannini's work?" At least Giannini was the one who provided the Vongola with hologram technology in the future.

The hologram finally fizzled out of existence as Reborn stepped through the place it once stood. "Shouichi had a hand in it to. It might not look like much, but it's much easier to mass produce than the robot decoys we used on the Vindici while achieving almost the same effect."

"And what was the point of that guy?" asked Tsuna referring to the white-haired man. Besides Reborn getting his kicks from terrifying Tsuna.

"In case you get any funny ideas like turning yourself in to the cops. A preview of what you have to look forward to if you do."

"That's ridiculous, Re-." The chill from earlier returned but this time Tsuna knew exactly where it was coming from. "Err- I mean, that's just ridiculous. Why would I go out of my way to turn myself in anyways?" Well, he could think of one reason, but what were the chances? Giotto being a-? Tsuna stopped the thought before it could go any further. Reborn and the news about the vigilantes were just making him paranoid now. Tsuna's mom was right. Giotto coming home should be good news. There was no way his brother was-

"Because your brother is one of the vigilantes after your life," said Reborn bluntly.

-totally going to kill him. Hold on. His brother was going to kill him? "Now you're just exaggerating," scoffed Tsuna as he turned to the bed to slip on his clothes. "I can see the vigilantes going after me but Giotto-nii would never go out of his way to kill anyone even if they were a mafia boss." He tugged up his pants before going on. "Plus why would Giotto become a vigilante? He was doing just fine in the police force before."

"Until he discovered that the Italian police force was bought out by the Vongola."

That made Tsuna pause putting his arms through his sleeves. "The Vongola own the police?"

"_Your_ famiglia is in possession of a lot of businesses, law enforcement being the least of them."

Now there was a scary thought. Tsuna was beginning to see why the vigilantes were so concerned. "But killing...?" asked Tsuna finishing dressing up. He understood the necessity in certain circumstances, but surely Giotto wasn't already considering going that far?

Reborn lowered his head, fedora tipping over to hide his face. "I'll admit it's speculation on my part but considering mafia bosses buy their way out of jail all the time and the fact the Vongola destroyed the Vendici, the only stable form of law enforcement the mafia had, the sensible thing to do would be to kill you."

That was...that was something Tsuna would think about later. Much later. "And the thing about us being watched?"

"No doubt observers sent ahead by your brother for your protection since he's unaware of your position. As the leader of a highly distinguished vigilante group, he's made a lot of dangerous enemies."

At this point, Tsuna didn't even feel like questioning the 'leader' part and threw himself on the bed instead. He had enough revelations for one night. Though Giotto saying he couldn't stay very often because the "big bad men" might chase him home all those years ago suddenly made a horrifying amount of sense.

**xXx**

AN: So hope you enjoyed even if there wasn't that much happening during this chapter besides Virtual Alaude. And sorry if the humor is a bit lacking here. My humor usually comes in the form of irony so I'll be changing the genre label on this fic so as to not mislead any readers.

Next chapter will feature the introduction of G (and maybe Giotto)!


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Forgot to say this before, but thanks to all my lovely reviewers, alert-ers, and favorite-ers. I'll admit it's been what's bumping this fic on my priority list (and somewhat over my other fic). And criticisms have been especially lovely (and a little heartbreaking...) because they keep my fic quality in check.

xXx

What way was he supposed to go again?

Two streets down from the sushi restaurant turn right. A left as soon as he saw a black cat with three white paws crossing the street. Right down the seedy alleyway. And then turn right again at corner with the funny little bush that looked like an expressionist sculpture of a star...or was that a left? No - he had to be going the right way because there was that piece of gum plastered on the floor exactly three inches south east of that orange fire-hydrant his friend talked about which meant all he had to now was walk down the street fifteen more paces and then he would be...

"So this is Giotto's old neighborhood."

Finally. G had probably circled around this place a dozen times before he finally found it, though he supposed that this was what he got for calling up Knuckle, of all people, for directions. Not that the priest didn't know the way; he'd passed by on one of his missionary travels after all. But it was the way Knuckle 'knew' that was the problem: by remembering every 'extreme' detail - from pieces of gum on the ground to stray cat roaming rotations - _besides_ the damn address. And seriously, while G liked cats, cats should never be used as directional landmarks.

Unfortunately that was what G had to settle since it slipped his mind to ask Giotto before his friend boarded the second commercial flight after his over and was thus out of contact. Asari would have been the next best option, but asking him was out of the question as well by virtue of him being on the same flight as Giotto, which actually left G with two choices for people who knew where Giotto lived: Alaude, who knew through extensive background check, or Knuckle. It didn't take a genius to know that Alaude was no option at all.

Thus G was here...several cats and three hours from when he called Knuckle later. But it wasn't all bad. On the bright side of things, he'd finally lost the brat and his sister who'd been tailing him since he left the airport, and he still made it here before Giotto. _Speaking of here..._

G took a slow look around, surveying the street. It was a peaceful little suburb; all quiet except the chirping crickets and the the low buzz of the overhanging street lights. Well maintained and barely a chip on the pavement. A simple place with near-identical houses spaced evenly down the road. And while the houses were lined by walls reaching just over G's head, the flimsy iron gates barring their fronts revealed it was merely for privacy rather than protection. All-in-all, it was as plain and ordinary a neighborhood as G could imagine which was exactly why it just didn't seem to fit.

"Can't say it's what I expected," he said aloud, summing up his thoughts on the matter.

Giotto always had a certain presence about him; held himself with a steady confidence that spoke both old nobility and hard work. Pride and humility. A balance of contradiction in the best sort of way. And even to G who had known Giotto since his stumbling youth after his friend had move to Italy, Giotto always came off as, not bigger, but brighter than everyone else in any given room; he seemed to have a strength that went beyond wealth and might despite having both aplenty. And cheesy as it might sound, this neighborhood - this town - just didn't look like the kind of place that could have given birth to such a man. Yet Giotto had been and here G was - standing in front of the house that his friend once and still called home.

...Or at least what G thought was (and secretly hoped wasn't) the house that his friend once and still called home because there was this horrible, horrible noise coming from the house that took G a second to recognize as someone screaming bloody murder and that he rather not associate with his friend's old house in any context.

And it kept stretching on and on and on until - abruptly - it cut off and had G worrying that there really was a bloody murder. Rather than give in to his initial impulse of barging into the house however, he turned to an approaching jogger instead, catching the man's eye. The jogger acknowledged G with a nod and slowed down to a stop before him, looking a little tired and sweaty but otherwise unconcerned for all that it sounded like a homicide transpired.

"This _is _the Sawada residence, right?" asked G just to be sure, all the while trying to remember the jogger's name. G vaguely recognized the man as one of the covert agents Giotto sent over to watch over his brother and mother and the man's name was on the tip of G's tongue. Something that ended with an "O"? He mentally ran down the alphabet to see if that would ring any bells.

"It is, sir," replied the agent nonplussed.

Which peeved G just a bit - because _sir?_ It was like G was goddamn military. And _old_. Which he wasn't no matter what his pissant of a little brother said. Twenty-four was a perfectly respectable, _young_ age to be. And with the average life expectancy in developed countries being somewhere upward from eighty, he still had about three-fourths of his life to go which still left G plenty of time to arrange his affairs and do whatever kids did these days.

Er-well, whatever people his age did these days.

"Cut the 'sir' and tell me what the fuck was that?" said G jerking a thumb back at the house; 'that' being what was quite possibly someone's last moments on earth. "I thought someone was dying, and I was going to have to go to court for witness testimonials."

And he still had half the mind to break into the house even though chances were the 'victim' was already dead judging from how the screaming just died off. The only reason G hadn't was because common sense told him if there really was a murderer in the house who knew he had been heard committing the deed -_ because who the fuck hadn't and why the hell aren't the neighbors doing anything?_ - and if the murderer was even a little professional about killing, then he would be waiting for some like G to do just that, weapon at ready. Which left G to do one of two things: go in with back up, preferably the agent, or ambush the murderer as he was getting out. And seeing as the agent still didn't look the slightest bit worried, G would have to make do with latter, interrogating the agent while he waited the perp out.

"It's a usual occurrence," said the agent.

"That's a usual occurrence," G repeated slowly, tone drier than a desert. _Then living here must be like living next to the main characters of The Ring and The Stepfather._

The agent elaborated. "It's been like this since I was first sent out here three months ago, but the neighbors say it's been going on for even longer. About two years according to them."

G rolled that bit of information over in his head. Two years? Then that put it suspiciously close to the time Giotto decided to stop visiting Namimori altogether, around the period when things in the criminal underworld started heating up.

It was a response to what was perceived back then as the rare weakening of the all-powerful Vongola Family. The Vongola Nono, Timoteo, was getting along in age and, if the rumors were true, the chosen Decimo was conversely, absurdly young. Younger perhaps than even Giotto and himself. And seeing as no one had even heard of who the current Decimo was unlike the Nono's four sons and the fact that the Decimo was only selected after the death of the three candidates and the disqualification of the fourth - for famiglia politic reasons G couldn't make heads or tails of - it would figure that the Decimo was either the most conniving heir to his position to date, or the most undertrained and unsuited which would mean the Vongola's leader-focused power base was as vulnerable as it could ever be.

Nowadays, most organizations (law, criminal, or otherwise), know it's the former case, but back then it was blood in the water and it had every mafia family not allied with the Vongola jumping on the opportunity.

Not long after the third candidate had died and the current Decimo was chosen, gang wars started breaking out everywhere in Italy: from the parks to the embassies; civilian casualties numbered in the thousands. And incidents that the mafia was usually so good at covering up as leakages and accidents were popping up left and right on every other news station. With grudges running rampant and the mafia going as far as to chase one man and his family down all the way to the other side of the world in at least one case, it simply seemed unwise for anyone in their band of vigilantes to return to their homes until things settled down.

Which they did - somewhat. It was enough that leaving behind Alaude - who was formidable on his own - and his division of the police force, that hadn't been bought out by the mafia, could deal with the issues in Italy, leaving the rest of them to focus their efforts on their newest problem: the Vongola Decimo himself. The man who'd apparently made his headquarters in Namimori and whose presence here made these 'usual occurrences' all the more suspect.

G pinned a glare on the agent across from him. "And you didn't see fit to include these incidents in your reports?" At least G hadn't seen any mentions of them when he'd down his own run through over the reports.

Here the agent finally fidgeted, starting to get a clue. "Well..." He trailed off, looking the most consternated G had seen him since they'd first heard the screaming. "That is to say-" The agent started again only to cut himself off with a shake of his head, shifting his weight from foot to foot like a guilty child. "Well before he sent me off, the boss said his brother was prone to these...fits of sorts. That Tsunayoshi has a...a very weak constitution for surprises and such."

In other words, Giotto's little brother was a pussy-footed wuss. G had forgotten that particular detail. He was sure Giotto had told him as much several times too. Although Giotto usually phrased it as Tsuna was just "easily startled". But G never could the get the image to stick in his head. Every time G envisioned Tsuna, especially after Giotto showed off his childhood photos, he'd always see a miniature Giotto instead.

"I figured this was an extension of that. And no one coming out from the house ever seemed harmed after the incidents," said the the agent seeming to steadily become more confident in his decision as he went on. "Although I believe Tsunayoshi does show up home injured on more than one occasion. But they're mostly minor injuries, and I've been led to believe they're the results of bullying at school or his own lack of coordination.

Which sounded...reasonable. Normal, even. A breath of fresh air from all the mafia killings and 'accidents'. Maybe being involved with the crime scene in Italy all the time was beginning to grate on G more than he thought. He was just getting too paranoid for his own good. After all, the mafia could hardly be blamed for every accident that happened. Just most of them. G nodded. "Fine. I'll take your word for it. Any other odd 'occurrences' you'd like to tell me about that you haven't already reported to that bastard Alaude?"

The agent returned to his earlier impassive disposition. "Some old reports that were recently dug up by the local police to aid in the search for the Decimo. They say a local yakuza gang, the Momokyokai, was wiped out in under a day over a year ago without police intervention or rival gangs claiming credit. It coincides with the visitation of the Cavallone boss."

Which fit the timeline of when the Decimo should have been chosen and based in Namimori. "And they're thinking it was a joint effort by the Vongola and the Cavallone?" asked G. It would figure that a mafia leader meet-and-greet would involve the takedown of a small-time, fellow criminal organization.

"Witnesses claimed to have seen a handsome man with a whip, two-fully dressed boys, and one boy in nothing but his boxers walking away from the scene which the local law enforcement chose not to believe at the time."

G could see why too. If he didn't know any better, that sounded like the makings of a cheap, black-bar video to him. But as it was, he did know better. And while he wasn't sure what the three boys had to do with anything, the man with the whip did vaguely match the description of the infamous Bucking-Horse Dino - because who else carried out a whip for a weapon in this day and age?

"Although," said the agent continuing on, "to the police's credit, the locals have taken to making outlandish claims as of late. Something about reports of killer infants and a kid who split apart the school grounds with nothing except his fists?"

"Probably some mafia propaganda," G scoffed, pegging it as another criminal underworld quirk. He swore, there must be some unwritten rule among the mafioso about telling the cops the most ridiculous alibis they could think of and try to roll with it just to fuck with the police. Stories of killer babies coercing criminals to commit their crimes were particularly popular. And then there was that trend of accusing law official's close relations as being part of the mafia.

G couldn't even keep count the number of times Alaude dragged in a guy for interrogation over the Vongola Decimo's identity, only for them to insist it was Giotto's brother of all people even after spending one hour with the detective (when most people cracked in one minute). Which G knew for a fact was impossible because not only was the kid still in high school, but Giotto and his damnable Intuition would know if his own kid brother was the Decimo...and from what G heard the kid was a complete wimp. And what respectable mafia famiglia - not to mention the _most _respectable mafia famiglia - would have a wimpy, sixteen year old kid as their leader unless he was their last resort?

_None. Except maybe the Shimon, but that's only because Cozart- _

Though G had to give the mafia credit where credit was due. They were a loyal bunch when it called for it because it took nothing short of utter-devotion or extreme brain damage to outright lie to Alaude like that. On second thought, Alaude was the one who brought them all in the first place so maybe brain damage was more common than G thought.

"Is that all?" G asked.

The agent nodded. "Yes. Detective Alaude was very thorough with his questioning."

"Then you can get the hell out of here. I'll be taking over watched," said G, shooing the agent away and turning back to the house. "Rest up and help Amedea with surveillance over the school tomorrow."

"On it, si- G-san." Then the agent, whose name G _still_ couldn't remember, was jogging off.

And all too soon G found himself alone and at the door of Giotto's home. G subconsciously ran a hand over his shirt and brushed at his hair. And what lay behind Door Number One? A man with a hatchet? A baby with a gun? G rung the doorbell and knocked tentatively, unsure of what to expect after the screaming. _It can't be too bad. This is just Giotto's mom and little brother we're talking about. It's not like the Nono's assassin, Reborn, is here._

G stifled a sigh of relief when he heard a perfectly, normal sounding woman call out: "Tsuna, would you do me a favor and get the door?"

"On my way, mom!" replied a boy who G could only assume was Giotto's little brother. There was the pounding of feet on the floor as someone went down the stairs, a dull thud and pause as said person presumably tripped on the floor, then the locks were being clicked open and the door was pulled away.

A head of brown hair greeted G. "Hello, umm-" The kid lifted up his head from where it defaulted at G's chest level to up at him straight in the face. "Goku-?" The kid's face momentarily scrunched up in confusion. "No, er, wait. That can't be right? Who are you?" Eloquent. The complete opposite of the ever well spoken Giotto.

"I'm taking it that you're Giotto's little brother," said G instead of answering immediately. He looked the kid up and down, already picking apart the difference between him and his brother.

"Y-Yeah." The boy nodded, shying away from G's critical examination. "My name's Sawada Tsunayoshi."

"G," he returned absently, still looking the other over. "One of Giotto's friends." Brown hair, brown eyes, and still a bit of baby fat around the face that Giotto himself had already lost at that age. Maybe the same slight build, but none of the posture. Perhaps a shade of Giotto's own confidence that kept Tsuna's back straight. Definitely not the mini-Giotto G had envisioned, and he couldn't help saying his observations outloud. "Heh. Besides the hair, you look nothing like him.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," said Tsuna almost casually. However G didn't miss the way his eyes blanked and his tone turned somewhat absent as if he'd heard as much a dozen times before. A common comparison then. And looking at how Tsuna's chin subtly tucked towards his chest and his back hunched, losing the shade of confidence, G couldn't help but feel like he'd kicked a puppy.

"N-Not that there's anything wrong with that!" said G rushing to reassure Tsuna. The last thing he needed was Giotto to be on his case for upsetting his little brother. And Tsuna did seem like a nice enough kid. G coughed into his fist before regaining his composure. "I mean Giotto brags about you all the time." Specifically about how fast Tsuna could run when being chased down by chihuahua which wasn't exactly something G would like to brag about himself, but it still had to count for something, right?

However Tsuna's expression seemed to say, "No, it didn't,' and his eyebrows were furrowed in doubt.

So G pressed on. "Yeah, he goes on and on about how you're a good runner when you put your mind to it and-"

And this wasn't going to work because there really wasn't much that even Giotto had been able to compliment his brother on and G was never good at laying it thick which called for change of tactics on his part "-and, well, it doesn't really matter what Giotto says when he talks about you. Just know that if anyone does say there is something wrong, you can always come to me to deal with it because Giotto's little brother is my little brother," declared G which finally got a smile out of Tsuna.

"Er- Thanks. I'll keep that in mind, G-san."

"And just call me G. I said we're brothers, right?"

Before Tsuna could respond though, G found himself being roughly pulled out of the doorway and shoved towards the street. _What the hell? An enemy?_ Caught off guard, G stumbled back a few steps before regaining his balance and pulled out his gun only to put it down the next second. A boy with grey hair and several sticks of dynamite fisted in each hand? It seemed G's real and far more annoying little brother had finally made his appearance.

"Oi, you old bastard! What the hell do you think you're doing here?" asked Gokudera, positioning himself under the house's door frame and between G and Tsuna.

Damn it. G thought he'd managed to ditch the annoyance after turning right at the fourth cat. How the hell had the brat found him so fast? "Che, I could ask the same thing of you," said G, crossing his arms and relaxing his grip on his gun, a contrast to Gokudera's open aggression.

"Gokudera-kun!" cried Tsuna attempting to intervene and step around the other boy.

But Gokudera only shook his head and extended an arm to keep Tsuna back in the house and behind him. "Stay away from his, Tenth! He's a filthy cop, and he's here to arrest you!"

Tsuna froze. "A c-cop?" A beat passed by. "Arrest me?!"

It didn't take long for G to figure out Tsuna and his annoying little brother already knew each other somehow. But it did take G a second for him to process what Gokudera just said. "Wait. Let me get this straight," said G holding up a hand and using the other to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He directed his gaze over Gokudera's shoulder, straight at Tsuna and asked, "_You're _Tenth?"

Tsuna's eye jerked nervously to the side. "Um-"

"You don't have to answer anything, Tenth," said Gokudera butting in again and pretty much answering G's question. "There's no reasoning with cops anyways. All they do is twist your words so they can use them against you in a court. Every single one of them is just power-hungry bastard that get off oppressing the people, waving about their shitty 'laws'!"

_How am I related to this brat again?_

Several long seconds of silence followed that pronouncement in which Gokudera continued to glare at G threateningly, G continued to wonder how they were related, and Tsuna looked about as ready to bolt as he first had when G had whipped out his gun. However, it was Tsuna that finally took it upon himself to break the silence.

"Er...But Gokudera-kun, couldn't you say almost the same exact thing about the mafia?"

"T-That's different! At least mafia don't pretend-" began Gokudera.

But G cut off his brother. "Stop trying to brainwash Giotto's little brother with your deluded perception of the mafia. He's not falling for it anyways," said G, noticing the way Tsuna had started backing away from Gokudera as soon as he started ranting about the cops. Or maybe that was the effect of Gokudera waving his bombs around as his speech got more vehement? G sighed. "But seriously, you and Bianchi...I thought Bianchi was bad enough with her obsession with Reborn, but now you're nicknaming your friends after the Vongola Decimo?"

Gokudera looked about ready to blow a gasket. "But Tenth really is-!"

"Nobody!" Tsuna interjected this time, somehow managing to ease out of the door.

"I wouldn't say you're nobody," said G. "But here I was, worried that my brother here was talking about the Vongola Decimo the whole time whenever he talked about the Tenth. Since he'd never shut up about the 'greatness' of the Decimo back at home, I'd always figured this 'Tenth' person was the same guy." G let out a chuckle, and felt a tension he hadn't known he'd had lift off his shoulders. "It's good to see that wasn't the case."

Tsuna just stared at him, looking a cross between scared and a little confused.

"I forgot. You don't know who the Vongola Decimo is do you, Tsuna?"

Again, the shifty eyed look. Poor guy really was a nervous kid. "Um, no, kinda...?"

"Well, Giotto didn't want me telling you but I suppose there's no helping it since you know this _idiota_," said G nodding his head towards Gokudera and ignoring his brother's growl. "Better I tell you a little bit than you having this one misinform you of the dangers. At least this way you know what to look out for."

Gokudera stepped forward, looking like he was either going to say something cutting or blow something up, but Tsuna caught his arm, giving an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Which worked, much to G's surprised. For as long as he knew his brother, he'd always been a brat who never took orders from anyone - at least not since he stopped doing piano recitals for their father-, started fights left and right, and was general pain in the ass with a love for the mafia. But here Gokudera was going along with a kid who clearly couldn't fight and who probably knew next to nothing about the criminal underworld. Perhaps there really was more to Tsuna that met the eye? However, G would tuck that thought away for later.

"First off, you have to know who the Vongola are," said G. "The Vongola are a mafia family - a powerful one at that. A large criminal organization that has virtually no limits on its power. Banks, police, big business, you name it, nothing is beyond their reach."

"I could have told him as much," scoffed Gokudera.

But G ignored him and continued on. "And that mafia family has recently chosen an heir. The Vongola Decimo, and word in the criminal underworld says he's made his base in Namimori. That's where I come in - or rather, me, your brother, and our friends. We're here to catch him."

"But wait," interrupted Tsuna, "Err-what's to say the Decimo is such a bad guy?"

It was good that Tsuna was trying to look for the best in people but G would have to dispel his illusions. "What sort of mafia boss is a good guy?" asked G in turn. "Especially considering this is the same man who'd willingly employ that monster Rokudo Mukuro." Then he remembered Tsuna might not know who Mukuro was and explained, "He's a notorious criminal who's committed crimes considered too atrocious even among the mafia. Not to mention all the other crimes the Decimo committed personally."

"And, hypothetically speaking, what would you do if you caught the Vongola Decimo?"

G's response was immediate. "I'd castrate the bastard of course." When he heard Tsuna choke though, he tried to tone it down. "Well maybe not castrate him but we can't exactly throw him jail. As I said before, the Vongola practically own everything. So really the only choices we have are to-"

Gokudera apparently had enough and the dynamite fuses were lit. "You're going senile if you think I'm going to sit here and tolerate you speaking about the boss that way!"

"Stop, Gokudera-kun!"

"B-but, Tenth!" Despite Gokudera's protest though, the fuses went out.

At that, G couldn't help but let out another chuckle.

"What the hell are you laughing about, you old bastard?!"

G waved his brother off. "Nothing, nothing. It's just you two reminded me of Giotto and me when we were your age. Although more often than not it was me stopping Tsuna's brother from going overboard." Whenever Giotto wanted to rush in and stop an armed robbery. Whenever Giotto went out hunting for mobsters... "But really, I have to thank you, Tsuna."

"Eh? For what?"

"For looking over this troublesome little brother of mine and keeping him out of the wrong crowd. For a while now, I'd thought he'd come to Japan looking to join the Decimo but instead he met you, the 'Tenth'."

"I-It was nothing," said Tsuna. Unknown to G though, he was thinking: _But G, I'm the wrong crowd you're worried about!_

xXx

TBC...

AN: Also feel free to make suggestions or criticisms as I'll take them all into consideration.


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